


Take a Look at My Reactor

by FFlove190



Series: Hojo Week 2018 [7]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anal, Consensual Sex, M/M, Office Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 03:03:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FFlove190/pseuds/FFlove190
Summary: Reeve sees Hojo about a reactor.





	Take a Look at My Reactor

**Author's Note:**

> A little late for the final day (biology held me back), so here’s some gay porn for belated Hojo Appreciation Week and mother’s day in the good ol’ USA.
> 
> Also props to [EvilRobotCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilRobotCat/pseuds/EvilRobotCat) for helping me with Reeve characterizations (I'm sure this isn't at all what you expected sorry lol)
> 
> Hojo Appreciation Week : Free Day
> 
> Unbeta;d

Hojo knew exactly why Reeve had come to see him this afternoon. They had been talking about it - briefly - before Reeve had been lured around the desk. Certainly, though, this was not in Reeve’s calculations. But it had been in Hojo’s. Oh yes, he’d been waiting for this opportunity for years. 

Hojo was kissing along Reeve’s manicured beard and then along the underside of his chin. The skin of Reeve’s exposed throat tasted like aftershave, and one of those inoffensive Shinra brand cologne that they had recently developed. Hojo’s hands were along Reeve’s thighs - they were firm and well muscled from frequent visits to the executive gym, marked with small burns in the shape of wires and screws and a dusting of dark hairs. 

Reeve was moaning, his hips lifting shallowy as Hojo thrust into him and nibbled at his adam’s apple. Reeve stopped moving suddenly, his hips heavy on Hojo’s, and Hojo couldn’t roll up into him. Hojo blinked against Reeve’s neck, not quite sure what this meant. 

“Wait.” Reeve said, as if he hadn’t stopped them already. 

Reeve didn’t say anything else, forcing Hojo pulled away and assess him. Reeve was astride him, pants lost on the journey from door to desk, the bottom of his dress shirt rumpled and wet where his dick peeked out. Hojo worked his gaze up Reeve’s suit. 

Despite being thoroughly debauched from the waist down, Reeve’s face was hard. His eyes were narrowed and calculating; his lips were set in a line; with the lighting he looked a bit like the devil of legend with his mustache and goatee combination. It was such an attractive look on him. It reminded Hojo that this young man had gambled his way to the top - and to gamble in Shinra, you needed an exceedingly impressive poker face. 

“Is something the matter?” Hojo deigned to ask. 

Reeve sighed slowly, it made his shoulders droop attractively and somehow the angle of his face was particularly haughty. Hojo had never seen the combination before; it was a good look for Reeve. “You never agreed.” 

Hojo knkew what Reeve wanted, the response he was looking for - but that wasn’t what Hojo was here for, not what they were in the middle of. Instead he leaned back into the chair and settled his elbows on the arm rests. Once comfortable, Hojo feigned, “I’m quite sure this is fully consensual.” 

Reeve leaned forward until they were breathing each other’s air; Hojo’s dick shifted inside of him but Reeve’s expression didn’t falter, he didn’t even gasp or moan. “As head of Urban Development, I have management rights to all mako reactors. Except for Nibelheim.” 

“Ah, yes,” Hojo drummed his fingers against Reeve’s bony hips. “We were discussing that before we got distracted, weren’t we?” 

This all seemed rather calculated. Hojo wondered, suddenly, if Reeve had anticipated this outcome. Reeve had been very pliable to seduction. This might, in fact, been one of the many potential outcomes that Reeve had expected - perhaps a fraction of a chance to happen, but prepared for nonetheless. How devious of him. 

“We did get off the topic.” Reeve rolled his hips; it made Hojo gasp through his nose and squeeze Reeve’s hips. Was Reeve smirking? “As does happen in casual discussion. But, Professor, I implore you to focus. The Nibel reactor is long past due for an overhaul.”

“Hmm…” Hojo made a show of adjusting his glasses, of pretending to think about it. Of course he had no intention of saying yes. Not to Reeve, not about this. 

See, Hojo knew something that Reeve thought no one else did. It was easy enough to put two and two together - his impossibly advanced robotics, his prodigic advancements in the design and maintenance of mako reactors... Reeve wasn’t the first Inspire Hojo had encountered, and wouldn’t be the last - they all came to Shinra one way or another. Despite whatever Reeve might think, Hojo had no plans to test Reeve’s abilities. Reeve was worth far more managing mako reactors and creating new technologies as Head of Urban Dev than stewing away in Deepground.

What Hojo  _ also _ knew was that as soon as Reeve so much as touched the Nibel reactor he would be privy to all of it’s secrets. Perhaps that was an exaggeration. But, Hojo didn’t know the limits of Reeve’s capabilities. When dealing with a manipulative, but naive Inspire, it was better to play cautious. 

“I do believe that’s irrelevant at this point in the discussion.” Hojo made a show of looking up Reeve up and down, as if Reeve had forgotten whose dick was in whose ass. 

Reeve was unmoving, his thighs firm against Hojo’s and not going anywhere despite a searching roll of hips. Reeve’s voice was low and gave no room for refusal, “Professor, I think this topic is particularly relevant.” 

Hojo wasn’t going to give in. “You have access to my mako smoke stack, isn’t that enough?” 

And just like that Reeve’s poker face faltered - confusion, a flush, and then a splutter. “E-excuse me?” 

“I thought you liked puns, Director.” Hojo smiled. Reeve just grew more red; as mature and controlled as Reeve was, there was a playful spirit hiding inside him. Hojo had seen Cait Sith, he knew. 

“That’s- that’s neither here nor there.” Reeve was pointedly not looking at Hojo’s face. 

“Careful, Reeve,” Hojo lifted a hand to brush against Reeve’s cheek, warm to the touch, and down to his well-trimmed mustache. “Your poker face needs work.” 

Reeve cleared his throat, flashed a vicious pout, and then raised his hips and slammed them back down in the span of a second. Hojo was hissing, and Reeve was flashing a grin. “Professor, you look uncomfortable. Should I call for assistance?” 

“You’re cheeky for your age.” And brilliant, Hojo didn’t add. Hojo rather liked a flustered Reeve. Hmm, getting Reeve flustered, making him losing control. It sounded like a fun new past time. 

“Cheeky?” Reeve was laughing. “I guess we’re about to reach cheeky bum time, hmm?” 

Hojo laughed too. A bit of Reeve’s accent had slipped into that sentence - a rare sound, indeed. It made a tingle run up Hojo’s spine. “Oh? You’re that close?” 

Reeve put his hands on Hojo’s shoulders and his eyes were dark, his face flushed, and his forehead shining with sweat. “My dear Professor, it’s time for the climax.” 

Hojo didn’t bother to respond verbally. He watched as Reeve lifted himself up and then down. There was nothing tentative about the motion: each roll of the hip was wall calculated, and their hips slammed together. Hojo just pulled Reeve closer to him and nipped at his lips, letting that facial tickle his skin; Reeve was kissing back. 

Hojo jacked Reeve’s cock in time with his own thrusts into Reeve’s ass. 

Reeve’s ass was gasping, his ass clenching, and his cum was painting Hojo’s lab coat, his dress shirt, even his neck. Hojo rode Reeve through the orgasm, enjoying the sensation of it, milking every last drop. 

Reeve made a noise in the back of his throat, a mix between an unhappy cat and a groan. Hojo stopped thrusting to let Reeve catch his breath, let his cock flop against Hojo’s stomach. 

Reeve nibbled at Hojo’s lip and pulled away. “Excuse me.” Reeve said in that demure, quiet voice of his when he was avoiding confrontation in the board room. And then he lifted his thigh and pulled off of Hojo’s raging dick. 

Hojo made a terrible noise at the sensation. 

Reeve paused and tilted his head with the hint of a smirk - but just the hint of one. “Oh? You’re that close? So sorry.” Reeve was pulling on his pants, pointedly ignoring Hojo’s condom wrapped dick. “I have a meeting. I do hope we can discuss the reactor situation again soon.” 

Reeve didn’t look like he’s just orgasmed. When he stuffed his shirt properly into his pants and arranged the tails in a well practiced motion, there was no trace of the debauchery that just went down. His expression wasn’t satisfied or smug; Reeve looked just like usual. 

“Put it on my calendar next time.” Hojo couldn’t help but smile as Reeve adjusted his tie. 

“Of course.” And Reeve was seeing himself out. 

Hojo couldn’t help but laugh. Things were going to get even more interesting in Shinra, weren’t they? 

**Author's Note:**

> squeaky bum time is apparently a thing people say across the pond to indicate the climactic end of a match.


End file.
